


the way we remember

by littlealex



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Pre-Canon, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-07-08
Updated: 2008-07-08
Packaged: 2017-10-12 07:14:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/122279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlealex/pseuds/littlealex
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John's told this story more times than he can remember. Funny thing is, it changes every time he tells it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the way we remember

"Mom, I've finally met her."

"Who, John?"

"The girl of my dreams."

"Oh, Johnny, baby, that's fantastic! What's her name, doll-face?"

"Mary. Mary Campbell. She's got this gorgeous blonde hair and these bright blue eyes.... Mom, I felt like I was in a movie, I saw her across the room and thought to myself, that's the woman I'm going to marry. Like in a fucking movie, mom."

"Oh, Johnny, don't let your father hear your curse like that."

" _Mom._ "

"Well, all right. Johnny, that's great."

"Mom, can you not call me Johnny? Johnny's a chubby twelve year-old. I'm twenty-two now."

"Oh, you know you'll always be Johnny to me. Even if you do marry a pretty blonde girl named Mary."

\--

"So I was sitting there at the bar, right?"

"How many fucking shots had you had, Winchester?"

"Enough to drink you under the table, Bolan."

"Anyway, onto the pussy, John-boy."

"Fuck you. Whatever, so I was sitting, right... there, two seats away, and I was looking over at this fine-looking gaggle of _beauties_ in the booth over there. Right over there. Must have been at least seven of them. Fucking _fine_ , all of them."

"Yeah, they just got bigger jugs than them gook bitches, that's all you've got to go on."

"Ain't got nothin' to do with their ta-tas, Mackenzie. All right, most of them were... fuckin' _fine_ , right? But this one, _damn_ foxy lady, she just... first second I saw her, I knew I was goin' to make her mine. Right there and then, maybe I'd had a couple shots more'n I should but _fuck_ , man. She was fuckin' hot shit."

"Right, and you were such the Cassanova, Mr. I-don't-wanna-touch-her-til-we're-married."

"Fuck you, man. Can't touch a girl on first sight, anyway. Scare her off. You'd know all about that, though."

"Aw, fuck off."

"Anyway, whatever man. This chick, man, she was fuckin' amazing. Talked to her for 'least an hour, she was so fucking ready for it -"

"Oh yeah? So fucking ready to fall asleep?"

"Fuck off, cunt, I took her home."

"Oh, Winchester, in your fucking dreams!"

"That's what your mom said, Farrer."

\--

"Sir, if you'd find it appropriate, I'd like to take your daughter to my family's house in Texas. Dallas, to be exact. It used to be my Grandpa's, matter of fact, and it's -"

"Boy, you do realize you're rambling at me?"

"... Yes, sir. Yes, sir, I do. Sorry, sir."

"Then how about you tell me, how did you meet my baby girl?"

"Well, sir, it was a chance meeting. We were each at an establishment, having an evening meal with our respective groups of friends, and we happened to have a couple of mutual friends, so -"

"Don't tell me lies. You were with your drinking buddies, having a few, and you found a group of girls to prey on. Lord knows what rif-raff Mary's got herself caught up in, but that's beside the point. Point is, you're telling me drink didn't have a role to play in this?"

"To be honest, sir, I'd had a beer, but it wasn't the impetus, no. Maybe a little liquid courage; nothing more. I'd spotted your daughter earlier in the evening, and after gathering myself I went and spoke to her. The rest, I imagine yourself or your wife has heard before."

"Humor me."

"Well, sir, we talked for a while. Just talked. There was nothing more, just getting to know each other. And since then, I feel as though we've been talking through everything we know. Like our lives depend on it, sir."

"Talk, huh? I don't believe you, Winchester, but I like you. Take her where you will, boy. Just bring her back chaste, mind."

\--

"And now, John would like to say a few words before the traditional vows are read."

"Thank you, Father. Mary, I just want you to know that I have loved you, completely and unashamedly, from the moment I saw you. I looked over at you, sitting at the table with all of your friends, and it was like someone had put a spotlight on you. You shone out, across the room, through the crowd and I knew then that I would marry you someday. And now, here we are. We've had ups and downs and lefts and rights, but we're still here. And I'm still in love with you, same way I was three years ago. Sometimes I look over at you and I feel like it's head-over-heels all over again. Bottom falls out of my stomach and my heart jumps straight to my throat, like I'm seeing you again for the first time, and it's a rush. Rush that'll never go away, no matter how thick or how thin things get, no matter how old we are, no matter how many children we have. I'll always love you the same as I did that night. Completely, and unashamedly. Mary, I'm yours."

\--

"But I don't wanna go to bed, Dad! Little Sammy just went to bed a few minutes ago and he's only a little baby. I'm older, so I should go to bed later. Right, Dad?"

"No, Dean. It's time for bed. We put Sammy to bed an hour ago, he only woke up again is all. Now, get under the covers."

"But Da-ad!"

"Dean, under the covers, lying down. Now."

" _Fine_."

"Good boy. Now, let me tell you a story I think you're old enough to hear."

"Ooh, is this a grown-up story? Like the story books that Mommy has with no pictures in it?"

"Lie back down. This is a true story."

"It really happened?"

"Yes. Now. Once upon a time, there was a young man who lived in a town not so different from Lawrence, in a house not so different from this one. He was a good boy, a hard worker who looked out for his family. But he couldn't help feeling like he was missing something. Much as he loved his work and loved his family, what he really wanted in the world was a good woman to love. He searched high and low for someone to fit the bill, but it was hard work and every time he hit a dead end, he felt like it was more and more hopeless.

"Until one day, he was sitting with his friends, and saw the most beautiful girl he had ever seen in his life. She had hair like spun gold and eyes big and blue like the ocean, and he knew that one day he was going to marry her."

"How did he know that?"

"He just did. Sometimes we can feel things like that in our bellies."

"Like when I know I need to go to the bathroom?"

"Something like that. Anyway, the young man gathered up his courage to talk to the beautiful girl, and they talked for hours. He fell in love with her, then, and she felt the same way. It was love at first sight, and they did end up getting married. Just like the young man's belly told him they would. And do you know what their names were?"

"Fred and Wilma!"

"No, Dean. Their names were John and Mary."

"Just like you and Mommy."

"It was me and Mommy. That was the story of how your mother and I met."

"Wow. Your belly told you to marry Mommy?"

"It did indeed. Always trust your belly."

"I will, Dad."

\--

"He's going to be okay, right?"

"He'll be fine, Sammy. Just a flesh wound."

"Then why's he in surg-"

"Doctors just overreacted, like they always do. Should've taken him to Jim Murphy, I knew... well... doesn't matter. They'll fix him up. Dean's seventeen - he's strong, healthy. He'll be fine."

"Okay, Dad."

"Goddamn it, Sammy, how many times did I tell you not to play that song anymore?"

"Yeah, but you won't even tell me why!"

"... It was the song playing the night I met your mother."

"... Really?"

"Yeah. We were... I was at a... a diner with some buddies of mine, she was with some of her friends across the room. This song was playing on the jukebox when I looked over at her. Don't know why I remember this song, out of all the ones that played that night. I guess it was one of those moments you can feel your life change path before your eyes. She looked back at me and the world stopped. World stopped spinning, heart skipped a beat, couldn't see anything else, the whole nine yards. I fell in love with your mother that night, Sammy."

"Dad..."

"Sorry. I'll be right back. You stay here."

\--

"They're both dead, Missouri. Both of 'em. Robert and Ed both. Different ways, but Jesus Christ."

"John, just calm down, now, you don't know what happened."

"What happened is that Mary's brothers were killed by the same Goddamn son-of-a-bitch that killed her. And I still ain't got a clue what did it, Missouri."

"John Winchester, you stop jumpin' to conclusions at the drop of the hat. Have some sense. Now, sit down, I'll fetch you a cup of tea, and we can talk about this."

"Missouri, I -"

"Sit! Or would you like me to get a dictionary for you to look up what that means?"

"Why do you always make me feel like I'm in the principal's office?"

"Because you belong there, just like your boy Dean."

"Dean hasn't been at school in six years, Missouri."

"Maybe you should'a left him there longer."

"Can you spare me the lectures? I just want to know if you've noticed anything going on around here."

"John, I can't see anything when you're thinking so loud."

"What-"

"You're not thinking about the demons, John, I know you're not. It's Mary, isn't it? Only right, being back here, her brothers gone and all. Give me your hand, I'll share the weight a spell."

"Missouri, I -"

"Oh, John. John, that's a memory to keep. Don't hide that one."

"I don't know what -"

"It's like a scene out of an old movie, you big ol' sap. Sailor across a crowded city party, I'm sure I've seen that one before. Only this is you, returned soldier at twenty-two, in a bar trying to drown older memories. She sees you, 'Horse With No Name' on the jukebox.... Lordy, John, I'd'a never pegged you such a romantic."

"It ain't the sorta thing I go around broadcasting."

"You really did love her in that moment, John."

"I know."

\--

John Winchester's been sitting at the bar for little more than half an hour before it happens. He's got a pint of beer that's a bit more than half-empty, sweating all over his fingers as he keeps his grip on it. His mates are talking in undertones about Frank Dyer, some drafted kid they'd known for about a month in 'Nam, whose mind had been left behind when he came home. He's not listening, though, because the more he hears the stories, the more he's convinced he shouldn't go back in the fall. He's just looking at his drink, looking around the bar, looking anywhere but his friends, who'll ask him an opinion and draw him into a conversation he doesn't want to have.

That isn't when it happens, either.

Casting his eyes around the bar, glancing at the groups of people dotted along the bar and sitting down at tables, his eyes eventually fall on a group of young women. He hasn't had a girl since he's been back, and there are lots of reasons for that, but he won't discover the ones that really mean anything for another few years. Still, he looks them over, his insides twisting as his eyes catch one girl in particular. He doesn't know what the feeling is, but he's pretty sure it has something to do with the way her long blonde hair falls just so over her shoulders, resting over a pair of perky breasts being hugged by a tight sweater.

After a few seconds, he realizes he's staring and averts his gaze, back to the beer and he contemplates the bubbles. He's seen girls before, of course, seen them and touched them and done all sorts of things he'd rather not talk about, but for some reason this time he can feel his heart racing a little faster and he can't tell why. He takes a long draft of beer to calm himself and tries to think about something else, but all that runs through his head is the girl sitting across the room. Her pretty blue eyes, full mouth open in a sparkling laugh when he'd seen her, settling back into an easy, open smile and he can't shake the image of her out of his mind.

He feels her presence burn across the back of his neck, the same sort of gut feeling he'd get when there were guns trained on him through the jungle, only this time he wasn't about to lose his life. Just a little bit of dignity, maybe. He turns back to look at her again, just as the music on the jukebox changes over. It's a song he's heard a million times before, like it's been stuck in his head for a month and that's probably not half wrong; it's America's 'Horse With No Name' and he reckons the radio stations brought back payola for it.

He's about to turn to his friends to complain about it, but instead he's caught dead in his tracks as a bright blue set of eyes catch his. He's pretty sure his heart leaps into his throat, because he has some trouble swallowing when he finally remembers to close his mouth. It feels as though something's seized his chest and squeezed his heart. And it might just be nerves but he's sure he can feel the Earth shift just a little to the left as the girl's pretty pink mouth turns up in a coy smile that's paralyzingly inviting. He has enough sense to smile back, at least, and it all feels a little abrupt but he's forgotten how to breathe and he gives her a little two-fingered wave. It feels stupid - of course it feels stupid, he can barely hear the music over his beating heart - but she doesn't seem to mind.

Not until one of her girlfriends titters at her arm, edges into the tunnel vision he'd been getting, and breaks the moment. The blonde girl swats at her friend, laughing as well, but there's another brief glance, another smile that's a little shier but no less inviting, and John's pretty sure his heart stops beating. Just for a second, before he turns back to his beer, takes another gulp (what was it they said about liquid courage?), and excuses himself with little more than a grunt in his friends' direction. They'd missed the entire thing, on the verge of crying into their beers on yet another Friday night, and he can't help feeling sorry for them.

Sure, he might be close to panicking on the inside, but he was getting smiles from a pretty girl across the room.

John doesn't really know what he's doing, walking across the bar to a booth where the object of his attentions is surrounded on both sides by friends, but he's pretty sure that they're all staring at him as he does so. He almost panics and gives up entirely as he's a few feet away, but his path is set like it's destiny and he walks it all the way up to the girls' table.

"Excuse me, ladies," he says, looking around at the others. They're all beautiful, sure, but it doesn't matter which one he looks at, only the sight of the blonde girl with the pretty blue eyes makes his throat constrict and his chest tighten. Which doesn't help him think of anything to say, but his mom always tells him to have grace under pressure, so he just smiles at her and leans on the table. "You know, I was going to think of something clever to say on the way over here, but every time I took a look at you I forgot all my good lines. Is there any chance of you just... pretending I've said something incredibly charming and joining me for a drink?"

The other girls collectively react, some of them giggling, some of them taking another sip of their drinks, but the blonde girl doesn't take her eyes off him as her lips slide into another smile.

"I think I could manage that. What's your name?" Her voice is smooth like lake water, and it has a sort of calming effect on him as he returns the smile slowly.

"John. John Winchester."

"Like the rifle?" For some reason, it sounds different than the thousand other times he's heard it. He just smiles, though, and she holds out her hand across the table. "I'm Mary. Mary Campbell. Nice to meet you, John Winchester."

John stands up straight then, reaches over and takes Mary's hand gently in his own. It's an electric shock as their skin touches, a little zap, and it makes him pause a moment before his smile turns into a smirk and he turns her hand over and presses a little kiss to the back of her hand.

"Pleasure to meet you, Mary Campbell."

John can't hear what the girls whisper behind their hands to each other, and he doesn't care. All he knows, as Mary smiles at him, warm and open like she's been smiling at him all her life, is that he never wants to let her out of his sight again. He doesn't believe in love at first sight, and it feels a little crazy, but he knows - somewhere deep down in his bones, in the pit of his stomach, and at the bottom of his heart - that he's going to marry this girl some day.


End file.
